Cake, Collywobbles, and Reasoning
by oursolemnhour49
Summary: Near should have known tagging along with Mello and Matt on a midnight kitchen raid would get him into trouble. He didn't expect it would get him a strange new acquaintance and chocolate cake. One-shot.


_My two sisters are practicing for a baking contest, and every single day this past week we've had a cake in the house. So from one thing and another, I got this idea..._

_Also, I owe a shout-out to WhiteLadyDragon for encouraging me to write more Death Note. I probably would never have finished this otherwise.  
_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. _

* * *

Nighttime made everything louder.

Or maybe it was that he was doing something he wasn't supposed to do.

Either way, Near found himself jumping at every creak made by their feet as he and two other boys crept down the darkened second floor corridor. A moon shone in one of the right-hand windows. He jumped wildly as something dark flitted towards him in the moonlight, only to realize that it was his own shadow. He quickened his steps and crashed into the back of a thin brown-haired boy, who leapt several inches into the air. "Agh! Near, you scared me!" he muttered. "Mello told you to stay in the room, remember!"

Near breathed a sigh of relief. Matt probably wouldn't make him go back. Out of all the children in Wammy's House, Matt was one of the few who tolerated Near, even though Near was a year younger. Most of the other kids had been hesitant around the new boy with the funny white hair, but Matt had treated Near normally and let him tag along with the games he and his friend Mello played. Mello wasn't bad either- in fact Near had been in awe of him ever since he had seen Mello tackle a boy who had stolen Matt's football. But Mello hated anyone tagging along with anything he wanted to do himself, and the raid on the kitchen tonight fell under that category. He had only grudgingly permitted Matt to come, and had flatly refused to allow Near.

Thinking about that made Near all the more stubborn. He crossed his arms. "I'm coming, it was my idea to get food anyway!"

Matt clamped a hand over his mouth. "Yeah, but you don't like the dark! You'll make noise and we'll get in trouble."

"You're the one yelling at me," Near muttered against Matt's fingers. "Besides, you and Mello wouldn't have gotten me anything unless I came."

"We never know what you like!" the other boy whispered. "Besides-"

"Matt, what are you- Near!" A shrill voice came leaping out of the darkness around the corner where Matt and Near were hiding. The owner of the voice, a blond boy of nine years with sharp eyes and overlarge blue pajamas came forward and crouched beside them. "What are you doing?" he snapped. "We told you to stay in the room!"

"I'm coming with you," Near said in as commanding a tone as his seven-year-old voice could muster.

"You can't come with us, we'll make too much noise with three people!" Mello sounded annoyed.

"We're making a lot of noise now," Near shot back.

"Come on, you guys," Matt muttered. "Let's just go and look for that cake Mello was talking about and then go back. Okay?"

"Fine," Mello grumbled. He turned to Near. "If we get caught, I will take away every single one of your soldiers, and those cars."

"Come on!" Matt whispered urgently. He crept away from the wall and towards the stairs, which were so dark they reminded Near of the well he had seen when he was five years old and his parents had taken him to an old historical house. Mello crept after him and the two were soon swallowed up by the inky black of the stairwell. Near had to take several deep breaths before he could follow them. It was so dark that he could not see where he was putting his feet, and he had to cling to the bannister the entire time. He gasped when he fell into someone. Mello's voice hissed inches away, "Geez, Near! What are you doing?"

"I can't see anything!"

"Where's Matt?"

"I'm right here!" A voice floated up from further down the stairs. "Come on, you two!"

After more several more halts and several hissed imperatives to be quiet, the trio made their way down to the large kitchen. It was even darker there than it had been on the stairway. Matt reached for the light switch automatically. The flash of light practically blinded Near, and Mello lunged for the switch. "Matt, you idiot!" he snapped. "If Roger wakes up and sees that there's a light on, we'll be dead!"

"We can't see anything! There's a table right in front of us, and shelves on either side! The fridge is all the way down at the other end!"

Matt's voice was rising, and Near almost groaned. "The fridge is on the other end of the kitchen," he whispered. "If we open it, the light in it'll turn on."

"When we close it, it'll still be dark!" Mello retorted.

"Just knock it off!" Matt crept down the side of the room, a small shadow against the shelves stacked high with boxes. The steady humming of the fridge eclipsed the boys' breathing. Suddenly a ray of light split the darkness as Matt pulled open the fridge door. He crouched, a black blob between the white of the interior of the door and the darkness of the hulking fridge. For several anxious seconds, Near and Mello listened to the sounds of his rummaging.

At last the blob sat upright. "Mello, you said that the cake would be on the bottom shelf! It's not there!"

"It is too!"

"No, it isn't."

"Let me see." Mello ran down to the refrigerator and grabbed Matt by the shoulder. The boy lost his balance and fell into Mello. They tumbled into the refrigerator door, which flew wide open and slammed into the shelf that stood at right angles to the fridge itself. Boxes clattered down, sounding like an avalanche in the boys' startled ears.

All three of them were frozen for perhaps ten seconds. Then Mello slammed the refrigerator and sprinted for the door to the kitchen. Matt was at his heels. When the pair of them reached the door, they both crashed into Near. A tangle of feet and arms tripped him up in the darkness and he fell to the hard floor with a thud. He gasped and instinctively curled up as a pair of feet kicked him in the head. Then he heard Matt and Mello's footsteps sprinting for the door. He staggered upright and tripped over a box. "Wait!" he cried, forgetting that he had to be quiet. His voice came out a squeak, and went unanswered. The footsteps faded. Then to Near's unspeakable horror, the kitchen light flickered on. He raised his head to meet Roger's gaze, and instead met the large shadowed eyes of a young man with wild black hair and a pale face. It was L.

Near caught his breath. L was something of a legend in Wammy's House, a former resident who was a mysteriously important person. Near had never spoken with him, only seen him talking to Roger or Mr. Wammy at a distance. He personally thought L looked strange, with his pale face and slouching figure, but every kid in the house would talk in hushed whispers about how they wanted to be L. There were rumors that he was one of the best detectives in the world, and that he worked with the police on a regular basis. Near had never been sure whether or not to believe that, but with the huge eyes of the older man looking down at him, the little boy found himself wishing with all his heart that L could have chosen another time to visit the orphanage.

At last L spoke. His voice was rather quiet, and he did not sound very angry, rather curious. "What's your name here?"

"I'm Near- am I going to get into trouble?" Near's tongue felt as though it had been twisted into knots, and he found himself stuttering.

L regarded him thoughtfully. "I suppose that would depend on what you were doing in the kitchen at midnight."

Near stared at his toes, wishing he could sink into the floor. "I- we were looking for the cake that was in the fridge."

"Did your friends make you come?"

"No, I wanted to."

L stared at him for a minute. Then to Near's astonishment, he turned away. "If you wanted the cake, I took it," he said casually. "I was having it in the dining room."

"By yourself?" Near asked, feeling impressed. If L could eat a whole cake by himself, maybe there was a reason he was such a legend.

L shrugged. "Yes, unless you wanted some."

Near gasped. "I can have some of the cake? But Roger says that if you eat food at night it gives you colly-wobbles."

L turned back to him. "If you think that, then you don't have to have any."

"No, I want some." Near made his way past the kitchen table to the doorway. L waited to turn off the light until he had reached the door, and the two of them made their way to the dining room. A side lamp gave a warm glow to the room, and there was a large plate with three-quarters of a chocolate cake at one end of the table. Beside it was a slightly smaller plate with a huge chunk of cake on it. A few bites had been taken from the slice, and Near wondered if that was L's first or second piece.

L grabbed the knife beside the plate and cut a generous slice. Near sat down and looked around for a fork. There was none to be seen. "Um… L?" he asked. "Should I get a fork?"

"Do you need one? You can use your hands." L licked some frosting off his thumb and climbed onto the chair at the head of the table. Near watched in fascination as the older man crouched, his knees on either side of him and his head inclined towards the cake as he reached toward his own plate. After a minute, Near carefully lifted his cake in his hands, but he could not stop watching L.

At last he plucked up his courage. "Why do you sit like that?"

"It helps increase my reasoning ability."

Near blinked. "Is that part of being a detective?"

"Sitting like this? No. But reasoning is."

"So if I wanted to be a detective and building with cards helped me reason I could do it."

L took a bite of the cake. "If you were a good detective, yes, I suppose you could." He swallowed and glanced at Near. "Are you going to eat the cake?"

Near broke off a bit with his finger and put it in his mouth. The cake was moist and the chocolate frosting was rich and very sweet. "It's good," he mumbled. He half-expected L to tell him not to talk with his mouth full, but L merely nodded and took another bite.

For the next several minutes, Near concentrated on his cake, and was halfway through the slice when another question popped into his head. "L, why are you a detective?"

L set down his fork, and Near wondered for a moment if he had made the older man angry. But L merely stared at the table as though he was memorizing it. "I suppose because I'm good at it," he said at last. "And because I don't like people who think they can do whatever they want to hurt other people. I try to stop that."

"I'd like to do that," said Near thoughtfully. "If I was a detective, I could stop people like the ones who killed my parents."

L gave him a very long stare before turning back to the cake. "Yes, you could. Do you think you would be good at it?"

"I don't know. How do you tell?"

L shrugged. "Do you understand why people do the things they do? Could you figure it out even if they didn't tell you?"

Near thought for a moment. "Maybe. Do you eat your cake because it helps you think?"

"Yes. But I also simply enjoy sweet things."

"I got it right, so does that mean I can be a detective?"

L looked thoughtful. "I don't know. I would have to see more sure evidence of reasoning on your part." He licked some frosting off his fork. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"What are colly-wobbles?"

Near stared at the table. "I don't know. Roger says you get them when you eat sweet things at night, but he never said what they were. But you don't have them now, do you?"

L shook his head. Near took another bite of cake, thinking as he chewed. "Do you eat cake at night a lot?"

"Almost every night. When cake is unobtainable, I have pastries."

Near thought about that for a moment. "Have you ever gotten colly-wobbles before?"

Again L shook his head. Near's black eyes lit up. "Then I think they don't exist and Roger tells us that because he doesn't want us to get food at night."

L smiled a little. "That was well reasoned."

"So I can be a detective?"

"Maybe."

They finished their cake in silence. Suddenly a faint series of chimes came from the clock at the end of the dining room. The sound made Near jump, but L merely glanced up. "It is twelve-thirty and you should probably go to bed," he said quietly. "Otherwise you and I will both get into trouble."

"But you're L, how could you get in trouble?"

"I'm leaving soon, and they could punish me by not letting me visit," L replied.

"But why would you visit?"

"I have to find someone who could become the world's detective if I die."

Near shivered, and suddenly the walk upstairs seemed very long. "But you won't die, right?"

L speared the cake slice with his fork. "Not right away. But I need to have someone, just in case."

"I'd do it!" Near said eagerly. "I'd definitely be a detective for you, if you die."

"I'll keep that in mind. But you should go to bed now, otherwise I won't be allowed to visit and see if you're ready."

"All right." Near wiped his fingers on his pajamas and went out of the dining room into the black hallway. For some reason, the walk no longer seemed so frightening. He sprinted up the stairway as fast as he could and crashed hard into two people at the top of the stairs. All three of them fell with a thud. Near struggled to get free and rolled into the square of moonlight. The other two clambered to their feet and ran towards him. It was Matt and Mello. They stared at him in shock.

"Near?" Mello's voice, when it came, sounded relieved and frustrated. "Matt and I thought you were being eaten alive by Roger! We were coming to get you!"

"I'm all right. I didn't get caught by him."

"Then what were you- _is that chocolate frosting on your pajamas_?" Mello almost hollered.

The sound of footsteps came from Roger's bedroom at the end of the hall. Promptly the three boys sprinted back to their room and flung themselves into their beds. For several anxious minutes they waited. Footsteps passed their doorway and faded down the stairs.

Mello sat up and grabbed Near's shoulder as soon as the sounds had gone. "So what were you doing?"

Near began twirling a lock of white hair between his thumb and forefinger. "I found the cake."

Matt and Mello both threw their pillows at him.

* * *

_When I used to ask for ice cream at nine o'clock at night when I was little, my dad always told me I'd get colly-wobbles. I still don't know exactly what they are. _

_Reviews, anyone?  
_


End file.
